


bath oils

by meliapis



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Porn With Plot, Smut, or backstory at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 12:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19723726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meliapis/pseuds/meliapis
Summary: **All Characters Are 18+**Your nostrils flare and you wrinkle your nose. You couldn't pinpoint it yet, but it caught your inner omega's attention, much to your future dismay. Why in the bloody hell is he invading the room with it anyway? Was it not he that always demanded that everyone be prim and proper and conceal their scents?You can’t find it in yourself to be disgusted with his blatant display, however.





	1. Chapter 1

Your butler’s earthy scent announces his presence before his voice does. 

“My lady, this just arrived for you.”

Looking up from your ever-growing paperwork, you raise an eyebrow at your butler in confusion before a slim, vanilla envelope catches your eye. He offers it alone on a silver platter, face as taciturn as always. “I thought the mail had already been delivered for the day?” you question, receiving the transmit with a curious hum. Your full name is written on the parchment, you notice, and you purse your lips in suspicion when you catch a faint whiff of something sweet. Bringing the pristine envelope to your nose, you grin at the floral scent that seeps from it. Something elegant and refined, you can’t help but think. 

Bayard hums. “Astute as always, my lady. This was hand delivered, so it must be of high importance.”

You twist your wrist around to find the wax seal on the front—a clue to who would deliver such an elaborate piece—and feel the world go still at the sight of two eagle heads. Their wings are spread in a proud stance and although they’re difficult to read you see the two words _potentia_ and _regere_ on their forms. 

Memories surface from long ago and your throat constricts as pressure builds behind your eyes. A heavy sigh billows from your lungs as your hand slowly falls onto the desk, letter still in your grasp. Resting against the wooden top, it hides the tremble that works its way up your arm. 

“My lady?” 

You raise your gaze to your faithful servant and wave away the ache your heart emits when faced with his concern. “I’m alright. We both should return to our work before we fall behind,” you say, hoping he’d keep from asking unnecessary questions. 

Luckily, he does. His aroma, however, gives him away, laced with worry. You’re well aware his concern won’t dissipate, but he knows his place and doesn’t pry. Giving a strict bow, he swivels towards the exit without another word, the silver tray in his possession swiftly pinned between his arm and side. The heavy musk ebbs away for the most part as he leaves, but the beta’s trail always lingers as he visits this place often to deliver news. 

When the hollow echo of the door reverberates through your office, you slump over. Away with the strong front you put on and in its stead, a pitiful, heartbroken girl. 

Grasping the letter with both hands now, you smooth your thumbs over the soft material. The succulent smell you’d enjoyed seconds prior now threatens to induce nausea. 

“I thought that was the last time,” you murmur weakly to a ghost of the distant past. “Why do you enjoy tormenting me so, Ciel?”

Taking a moment to build up enough mental strength, you inhale a deep breath before finally severing the wax seal. It’s a clean break, one where the symbol remains intact and doesn’t split down the middle. You suppose his mail can be perfect, everything else about him always was—is. The folded paper within slides out easily enough, smelling even stronger of flowers when you open it. His signature is the first thing to capture your attention, and you have trouble focusing on the start of the short paragraph, but you manage. 

_Dear [Name],_

_I apologize for the short notice, but I felt it was needed as Elizabeth has taken matters into her own hands without my permission once again. She has planned for another, needless gathering and has made it her goal to fetch you the day of as a surprise. I know this will come as an inconvenience, but we are both well aware she will not take no for an answer. I thought it best to warn you beforehand so that you may take the necessary precautions._

_I will not expect your arrival as I know our last meeting was less than satisfactory, for which I still offer my sincerest apologies. However, if you do make plans to attend, I shall look forward to it._

_I hope these past six years have treated you nothing but kindly._

_Best regards, Ciel Phantomhive._

He’s as blunt and to the point, as you remember him being. Reading this, you thought you could get through it without growing overly emotional, but he always has to prove you wrong and throw something unexpected at you. So the ending has you hunching over your desk, head in your hands as you fight back tears of frustration and anguish. You hate how he still makes you feel like this after all this time. 

Having never heard anything from him until now, you had done your best to write the past off as a childish infatuation spurred on by envy and selfish notions. He had been unattainable and that was what had made you so taken with him—not the tender smiles of your intertwined childhood or the relief you’d seen in his eye when he’d first seen you upon his miraculous return. 

No. You hadn’t loved him back then and you don’t love him now. A child would never even understand such a complicated sensation. You’d told yourself this enough times until you believed it so it was the truth. It _had_ to be the truth. 

In your turmoil, you realize why he’s sent word and why Elizabeth is out stirring up trouble once again. Just because you’d fallen out of contact with the earl didn’t mean you’d fallen out of contact with her, after all. 

She’d mentioned his birthday when she had visited last, which had been a month or two back if you recall correctly. Your heart still stung when she brought him up, but you have become an expert at masking your hurt since the day you’d lost it all. Elizabeth still doesn’t know all the details and it’s better that way. 

You’d listened to her constant ramblings as she desired his eighteenth birthday to be the best he’d ever had. She wanted nothing more than for it to be celebrated as it should, with him surrounded by those who cared about him. It also was of high importance as he would be wedding her soon enough afterward. 

She implored you back then to come, but, lucky for you, work had pulled you away before you could give her an answer. You thought you’d escaped her grasp. 

She hadn’t forced you to see him in all these years, so why now? Did his eighteenth birthday really have to include you when it’s clear you’ve never forgiven him for that day? 

Another sigh slips passed your lips and you rub your eyes clean, putting the letter away in a drawer so you wouldn’t have to see it again. The contents would continue to berate you for the rest for the day, however. They follow you to your bed as you head in for the night and even have the audacity to corrupt your dreams. 

All you can see is the crowd around the graves gradually fading away as you remained, feet planted even as rain fell over you. All you can see is the faint trace of his outline as he came up beside you, giving an earnest apology. All you can see is the blood, splattered over everything and pooling beneath your father’s body. All you can see is his finger on the trigger that had already been pulled. 

You couldn’t forgive him. You couldn’t forgive yourself. Because when you look back on that day, a day where he wasn’t Ciel but the Queen’s Guard Dog, you only remember the betrayal of the two most important male figures in your life. 

He didn’t have to kill him, he could have just sent him to jail. You know he didn’t deserve it for all the things he did, all the crimes he’d committed, but he had still been your father. He had still been the man to tuck you in at night and comfort you when the nightmares became too overbearing. He had still been the man to wipe away your tears and promise you he’d never let anything hurt you. 

Being a father didn’t make up for being a cold-blooded murderer, you know that—have known that. 

But being your childhood friend and sweetheart didn’t make up for taking your last parent away from you either. 

As morning came, you knew you had to give in. Ciel had already apologized enough. Although a heartfelt sorry could never make up for taking someone’s life, you knew he’d only been trying to protect you. Your father had been insane and even though the earl had found him a despicable creature after solving the case, he still paid for the funeral and visited the grave. He hadn’t attended the ceremony, but you didn’t blame him for that. Many hadn’t after hearing the truth. 

You don’t think you can ever fully forgive him, but you desperately want him to know you’re still here. You have never stopped thinking about him and a day never went by that something didn’t remind you of him. 

While you know this hidden love of yours will never come to bear fruit, you can’t stop yourself. Because you still love him like you did as a child and you still want to be the friend you once were. 

~~~

The fourteenth comes before you know it and Elizabeth is there bright and early to help pick out a dress for the party. She’s delighted to not have to drag you there unwillingly (like her brother) and is ever so grateful. 

“He’ll be so happy to see you! It will be just like when we were little, all three of us together!” she giggles, tossing dresses out of your wardrobe every which way. Guilt burrows in your breast at the thought of your poor maid having to clean this mess up. 

“When we were little?” you parrot, mind wandering. A faint image of you and the blonde bickering over who got to be a toddler Ciel’s wife came to mind. It makes you laugh and your heart cry as you always knew who’d win in the end, yet you had still fought her for the title long ago. 

“Since this was a surprise I knew you most likely wouldn’t have gotten Ciel a gift. I have plenty so you can choose one to give to him!”

“No, it’s fine, Lizzy,” you assure her. 

“But you mustn’t show up to a birthday party without a gift!” she squeaks. 

“I’m not,” you say and the omega blinks owlishly. 

“You mean you have one?” She is baffled and you’re not surprised. You hadn’t gone to the last five celebrations so it would make sense for you to not have purchased anything for this one either. 

“I do.”

“Ohh, what is it? Do tell!” 

“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” You chuckle as she pouts. The disappointment fades when she pulls out a gown she likes, squealing over how adorable it is and that you _must_ wear it. 

For the rest of the morning, you’re stuck trying on dress after dress until the both of you settle on one you like. 

~~~

“My lady, are you sure you should attend this gathering?” your butler worries. “After all, it is a full moon tonight.”

“Don’t fret, Bayard. I made sure to tell Poppy to pack the right medication,” you tell him. “This is a Nobles’ party, so you shouldn’t concern yourself. Besides, I’m quite tired of your worry stinking up my manor.” It’s meant as a tease, though, Bayard was never one for humor. 

“Nobles or not, you’re staying the night where alphas reside, my lady,” he states, scowl evident. “A full moon is a powerful thing.”

“Yes, but I’ve already passed my time this month and all alphas there are sure to be on the same medication, so quit your worrying,” you order, looking over your shoulder when Lizzy calls you by the front entrance, her usual lemon-vanilla scent spiked with excitement. It’s time to depart. 

“I wish you’d go another day,” Bayard sighs. “Be careful, my lady. All men are wolves.”

“Of course,” you murmur, nodding in farewell. Poppy waves to you from the top of the staircase as you leave. Your things have already been loaded into the transportation so all there’s left to do is enjoy the ride. 

Lizzy fills the silence as she always does, but you spend the remainder of your time rehearsing what you would say to the earl upon your arrival. You’d have to apologize for your cold behavior even though it had been understandable in your horrid predicament. 

You also hope he will enjoy his gift. The books you’re giving him aren’t new by any means but they are first editions and the mysteries he so enjoyed. After all, they certainly didn’t do you any good gathering dust in your massive library. 

~~~

“It’s a pleasure to see you, Lady [Name],” the ravenet greets, his gloved hand smooth against your own as he guides you out of your transportation. His musky alpha scent had been carefully drawn in and refined, so well that if you had not known him prior, you couldn’t have told his dynamic. Back when he had first appeared with Ciel it was all over the place, sending some passing omegas wild (luckily, you were still too young to really fall victim to it). 

The earl must have reprimanded the servant as a gentleman nor a butler should brandish it so openly.

“Sebastian,” you nod, “it’s been a long time.”

“I must say, both you and my lord have grown immensely these last few years,” he comments, ruby eyes closing as he playfully wiped away an invisible tear. “It seems like only yesterday you were taller than him.”

“Has he really outgrown me?” you mutter in disbelief. “I never thought I’d see the day.” 

“Neither did I,” he agrees, chuckling. “Welcome back to the estate, my lady. He’ll be delighted to see you’ve come.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, suddenly shy as you pass by to start for the front entrance. The mansion looks the same as when you’d last seen it and you find that nothing has really changed, even on the inside. 

Lizzy runs off to find a place for Ciel’s gifts as well as make sure the decorations don’t need any spiffing. You’re sure she’d be greeting her fiancé as well. 

Upon entering the entrance hall you’re met with the other servants of the manor. They all recognize you on the spot and welcome you with open arms. You’d always been fond of the Phantomhive workers and they you, so it doesn’t surprise you one bit. 

They don’t stick around long as they have work to finish or so Sebastian’s glare reveals when he passes by. You laugh at their clumsy retreat and jump when a hand falls on your shoulder. Turning, you’re met with soft eyes and a slender smile. 

“Edward!” You open your arms wide and envelope him in a hug. The familiar smell leaks from his glands despite his best efforts but comforts you nonetheless. “I haven’t seen you in ages, how are you?”

“Fine as always. You sure have grown,” he says and you laugh. 

“So I’ve been told.”

“I didn’t think you’d come,” he states, honesty always having been his best quality. 

“I owe it to a childhood friend to see him on his eighteenth birthday,” you explain. “I can’t blame him for everything.”

“You can’t, but I sure can,” he grumbles and you hum, not having a reply. “I hope the night will go smoothly. Ciel better keep his wits with this full moon about.”

_That’s right,_ you think, _he is an alpha, isn’t he_?

You could never believe it back when you’d all grown into your natures at nine and ten years. Vincent would’ve been proud as well as Rachel, but you were just shocked. The navyet had always been so frail as a child and never so headstrong. You yourself had been predicted to be a beta, but Mother Nature had other plans, unfortunately. 

Being an omega is fine, but at the end of the day, you hate the monthly heats more than anything. 

“I’ll have you know I’m not the only alpha to worry about, Edward.”

That voice nearly gives you whiplash as you turn, heart going from a normal rhythm to a crescendo in the space of one second. His eye is the same, encapsulating cerulean but the rest of him is completely and utterly new. Even his scent has changed from delicate to something more robust.

Your nostrils flare and you wrinkle your nose. You couldn't pinpoint it yet, but it caught your inner omega's attention, much to your future dismay. Why in the bloody hell is he invading the room with it anyway? Was it not he that always demanded that everyone be prim and proper and conceal their scents? 

You can’t find it in yourself to be disgusted with his blatant display, however.

Sebastian was right about him growing, he’s definitely taller than you now. Both of his parents had been so you shouldn’t be all that surprised, but you are. He’s only gotten more handsome too, you note, and your pulse catches in your throat when that enchanting eye turns to you. 

“I see you came,” he says, softly. 

“I did,” you murmur, tongue tying itself into knots. 

“One alpha or a hundred, I still expect _you_ to keep a respectable distance from my sister,” Edward continues and you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re still as protective as ever.”

He looks at you, flushing scarlet. “I have to be! All men are wolves!” he growls in defense.

“Yes, I’ve also heard that before, too,” you mumble to yourself, swiveling away from the blond and back towards the earl. Before either of you can trade words, his name is shouted from across the way. 

Ciel’s entire demeanor becomes irritated as you spot a wine-haired individual that you recall to be the Indian prince, Soma. His servant is not far behind and you hate that you can’t think of his name. It started with an A, you’re almost positive. 

“Excuse me while I deal with that annoyance,” Ciel utters in a low tone that sends shivers down your spine. You nod, throat tight as he leaves your side to deal with his new guests. 

Edward scoffs. “He’s still as proud as ever.”

“Careful, now that he is older he most likely can bite harder,” you say, smiling when the Midford flushes. 

“Don’t bring that day up!” he hushes, thoroughly embarrassed. You only laugh at the memory of their childish squabble. 

“You two have never gotten along. It’s almost ridiculous at this point—you're going to be inlaws soon!”

“I prayed that day would never come,” he groans and you pat his shoulder in a soothing manner. A piece of you inside agrees with him forlornly. 

“My lady, shall I show you to your room?” Sebastian asks, appearing behind you with your bag in hand. Giving a farewell to Edward, you follow the butler to your accommodations. 

As you walk up the grand staircase, you spot Ciel with his arms crossed and expression downright murderous as Soma ruffled his hair, gushing over how big he’d grown. It pulls a giggle out of you and, as if he’d heard it, the earl looks exactly to where you are, sending your heart racing once more. 

Turning your head away, you focus on keeping up with the butler and his long strides. It’s doesn’t distract you from the heat that crawls over your face.


	2. Chapter 2

The party lasted well into the night. You’re not sure when exactly it had begun as Elizabeth had up and dragged you out of your room and into the fray, but you find you don’t exactly mind. 

Dinner is a chatty affair with the number of guests that had appeared only after you’d retreated to your room. You honestly don’t know a good deal of them as they are prime connections only a Phantomhive heir would have the honor of having. 

When dancing is instigated, you’re asked by many individuals ranging from your age to well passed your age limit. Tanaka is the last old man you’d allow for the night as he’s nothing but a gentleman. The others that came before him, however, leave you with flaming cheeks and harsh words on the tip of your tongue. 

_ Men and their invasive hands, _ you think in disgust. Champagne is offered at every turn and you can’t help but use it as an escape. No one will approach you if you take your time sipping a glass or two. It also does wonders for your nerves. 

“You seem prevalent among my guests tonight.”

“Yes, they can’t get enough of me, it seems,” you mutter blindly, turning mid-sip with a pleasant buzz throughout your thoughts. You nearly uptake at his dazzling blue eye. He raises an eyebrow at your sudden coughing fit. The champagne no longer masks the alpha's smell as it attacks your senses.

“I hope you’re not looking to fall drunk,” he sighs, sipping his own glass as he looks out at the gallivanting crowd. 

“I certainly am not,” you defend, clearing your throat. “Though, I suppose I’m the definition of a lightweight so I better quit now while I’m ahead.”

“Precisely my point,” he hums. 

“Why aren’t you out there dancing with Elizabeth?” you ask, fighting off an awkward silence. 

“She has already roped me into one too many.”

“Yes, you were never one for dancing, even when we were little,” you giggle, smiling. As your gaze is focused on the floor, you miss the soft look he gives you. 

“Have you been well?” he inquires. 

“I have,” you say somewhat truthfully. “I’ve managed to keep my family business afloat, but seeing as I’m now a woman of marrying age I’m constantly being told to let a man take charge.” 

You laugh darkly, humor nowhere to be found as you swish the remaining golden liquid in your glass around. “They use my natural instincts as if I’ll take it lying down—the lot can go to hell for all I care.”

“You have far too much liquid courage,” Ciel comments, stealing away your drink. 

“Hey!” You chase after it, stumbling into his chest in the process. He grunts at the impact and you blink as the world spins. Maybe you have had too many. 

“Are you alright?” 

You shiver as his voice slithers into your ear, much too close for comfort. The warmth radiating off him doesn’t help either and when the scent of him hits, you recoil in an instant as if you’ve been struck.

“Excuse me,” you gasp out, not even bothering to look back as you escape into the crowd, dodging forms left and right. Your sight is a mess but with the sudden sensation washing over you, you feel as sober as ever. 

Your heart is going at it double time when you reach your room and the goosebumps that had broken across your flesh have yet to fade. There’s a heat working its way throughout your middle that has you scurrying to find your luggage.

Why now? Why you? You think it repeatedly as you search for your medication, praying your baser instincts will remain asleep. They’d already awoken once this month and you certainly are  _ not _ about to break down into heat when you’re trapped in the company of far too many alphas. 

Curse words flood your head and then you finally clasp the case with the sedation pills. Relief floods you as you open it but it’s quick to drain when you realize it’s empty. 

“Goddamnit Poppy!” you hiss, throwing the container out of anger. The heat was muddling your thoughts, unleashing the emotions you reigned in constantly when in the eye of society.

“No, calm down,” you murmur to yourself, taking deep breaths. The focus falls from your lungs to your abdomen when the heat spikes, forcing you into a curled up position as pain clenched like a writhing snake.

This didn’t make any sense. Why had you been induced into a heat when you’d already had one prior? The full moon couldn’t possibly be the reason. 

True mates, however... They can induce another heat at any point in time.

Tucking your chin into your collarbone, you inhale and groan at the faint scent that had followed you from the ballroom.  _ No, Ciel has to take sedatives just like anyone else. It can’t be him.  _

You refuse to assume and it would do your heart no good in the end when you realized it was just a guest you’d yet to meet. Whatever the cause, you are sure to be in trouble soon because below your layers you can feel your arousal beginning to grow. You know how bad this body of your gets when a heat works this fast and  _ this _ strong. In minutes you’ll be producing enough slick that every alpha within a mile radius will pick up on it. 

You have to mask the scent—you have to before someone notices. Perfume isn’t going to be strong enough and you won’t be able to move, let alone walk once you surrender to the pain. Abandoning the manor isn’t an option. 

Your jaded eyes raise to meet the door that leads into the adjourning bathroom. A bath might be able to keep it hidden for a while with some scented oils and soaps—

_ They have to have sedation pills here somewhere, though. _ The first order of business is ringing up a staff member. You pray you’ll get Mey-Rin as it will be a whole lot less awkward to explain as not only is she a female but a beta at that. 

With an aching groan, you get off your knees and approach the rope that hangs by the bed. Just a few pulls and you can escape to the bath as your backup plan. Grasping the fabric between sweating fingers you yank it down relentlessly until you can’t wait any longer. 

Fledding to the restroom, you leave the door cracked behind you and collapse over the tub. The faucet explodes with water as you twist the handles and make quick work of your clothes. The heat of the water stings but you’re too worked up to care. Sliding a hand between your legs, you whimper at the sensitivity and breathe out a curse at the slippery texture coating your lower lips already. 

A knock sounds and a familiar redhead beta pops peeps into the room. You withdraw your hand and look towards her, eyes pleading. 

“O-oh dear!” she stutters out, embarrassment evident in her voice at your faint, intimate smell that is hardly detectable over your overpowering heat scent. 

“Do you have any medication here? I’ve run out,” you explain in a hurry, breath coming out in short bursts. 

“No, miss! Our young master refuses to take it, he does.” She apologizes profusely, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Ciel is as stubborn as a mule and now quite the hypocrite. 

“I need to mask my scent,” you beg. “Bath oils, lotions, anything.”

“R-right away, Miss!” She turns on her heel and runs smack into the wall. You can’t help but laugh. It quickly fades into another groan as you sink lower into the water. 

“God help me,” you whisper, trying to relax and ignore the arousal seeping from you. 

Mey-Rin returns with so many bottles you don’t even try to count them. She pours colorful liquids in as fast as she’s able and bubbles accumulate over the surface of the water, hiding your aching, naked form. 

“Is there anything else I can do, Miss?” she asks, hands clasped in front of her. 

“Thank you,” you choke out. “Just...ugh, try to keep any alphas as far from my room as possible, please.”

“Of course, Miss. Call if you need anything, yes!” She leaves the room without any accidents, clicking the door shut behind her. All you have now is the running water, but even that has to go as you can’t flood the bathroom. 

Being alone is always the worst part of your heats. You have no one to confide in and with such a one-track mindset on corrupted ideas, you have no choice but to lock yourself away. 

Mating is meant to be saved for someone you love, you’ve always been taught that. It's damn near impossible to save it for Mr. Right when you’re praying to just be fucked already, but you’ve managed this far and you’re not about to give yourself up so willingly to some party guest. 

Mey-Rin will keep any unsavory characters out, you tell yourself. You trust her skill set as Ciel only hired those certain individuals for a reason. 

“Ciel…” His name falls from your lips like a prayer and another flash of heat floods your abdomen, adding to the amount of slick you’re already producing headily. You can’t smell it as you’re drowning in all sorts of sickenly sweet scents, but you’re afraid one keen nose will be able to. Thinking of him at a time like this will result in only more pain—you can’t. 

You keep your attention on the ceiling, counting minute after minute that passes. It is complete and utter torture and tears are gathering at the corners of your eyes. You wish you’d listen to Bayard and just stayed home. If you were found out this would be humiliating. It could go on to ruin the reputation you worked so hard to build after your father. 

Being a woman and an omega had already made things so difficult for you. You didn’t want it all to go to waste, not after countless, sleep-deprived nights and mountains of paperwork. You’d lost years of your life working yourself into the ground to keep your family business situated. You’re not losing it all to some stupid call of nature you never wanted in the first place. 

You’re not sure how long it’s been since you jumped into the bath. There’s no way to tell with no clock in the bathroom. You try to sleep, to forget about any and all surroundings, but the need to be filled keeps pushing its way back into your mind. 

The first idea you can think of to counter it is to recall all the somber things in life. You think of your mother and how she’d died young. You think of how you never were able to have her in your life to watch you grow and blossom into the woman you are. You think of how disappointed she would have been in your dad and what he’d become. You think of all the crimes he’d committed and the innocent lives lost because of it. You think of his funeral and rain that had soaked you to your bones. You think of how heartbroken you’d been and how many lonely nights you suffered at the cause of it. 

The image of Ciel thwarts your depressing memories. He’s dressed in a black suit, umbrella in hand as he saved you from the downpour. You recall him leading you back to your carriage always at an arm's length. That had been the last day you’d seen him, watching him fade into the distance from your window as you were driven away. 

You open your eyes, having not even realized you’d closed them in the first place. Tears slip down your cheeks and you nearly scream when you see a dark figure standing over you. Blinking away the blur of tears you heart thunders at the sight of the earl staring down at you, eye at half mast and dazed. You cover your mouth and nose to suppress an unearthly noise. 

He couldn’t be real. You told Mey-Rin not to let anyone near you. This is a cruel trick. 

But the rapid rise and fall of his chest and the sultry look that fills his gaze looks so realistic. It sends another heatwave down your body. Your thighs snap closed, sloshing the water as you search for some sort of friction. 

“Ciel,” it comes out as a pitiful whine and in the blink of an eye, his arms are plunging into the sud-ridden water. His hands leave fire in their wake as he slides them under you, hoisting you into his arms. Water falls in streams from your soaked form and he cares anything but, leaving the bathroom behind for the bedroom. You gasp at the temperature change, clinging to his now wet clothes. 

Suddenly, your back hits the bed and you’re left to fend the cold off yourself. For a moment, you think he’s going to leave but then he is on top of you, hands roaming your slippery skin as he latches his lips onto yours. 

You cry out, arousal painful but so much easier to bare now that you have his touch. He’s everywhere at once and his tongue is exploring every crevice of your mouth. He tastes of the champagne from the party and sugary desserts. Your hands find purchase in his thick, blessed hair as you drown in him. 

He’s merciless with his hands, they pinch and prowl the slope of your chest, marveling your peaks until your groaning. Then, they’re sliding lower and lower until they reach the most sinful place they can possibly be in that moment. 

You throw your head back and choke on a scream as his finger slips between your folds. You’re so sensitive it leaves you quivering and crying out. Then one finger becomes two and they move at a relentless pace, rubbing at a spot the makes you see stars. You can almost feel the slick pumping out in waves after his fingers. Two fingers become three at some point and the alpha is scissoring your entrance in preparation as if you need it with how pliant the heat leaves you.

“Please—!” You moan, nails digging into the alpha’s sleeves. Your eyes meet his lone one and you struggle to breathe with so much warmth at your core. “Please,  _ Ciel _ !”

His lips tighten into a line and his fingers leave you, making your eyes water at the absence of pleasure. You mewl and squirm as he rids himself of his clothes. Your hands have minds of their own and they slide up the newly revealed skin of his stomach and soon his chest. This time his lips part and a light groan escapes, pushing you into a dirty mindset. You just want him in you, fucking you into the mattress like his life depends on it. 

His pants come off and the heap of clothes is forgotten and left to wild locations as he latches himself back on to you, hands traveling down your thighs before sinking under them. You choke on air as he pushes them up, spreading them to expose you in your entirety. 

His eye drinks you in, flushed mien, pulsing heat, and all. The sight of you makes him salivate; it’s an unquenchable thirst, but he’ll have to save that for another time. 

You’re so  _ wet _ and you just know he smells it passed the dizzying bath oils. It’s a trap just waiting to go off but he is beyond reason now. He doesn’t waste any more time, grabbing his flushed, pulsing member and guiding it to your center. Just his tip skimming your lower lips has you moaning but once he’s sinking into you everything leaves you. The world around you is a myth and the only thing to exist is your sweat-coated bodies as you lock hips in one smooth thrust. He’s so incredibly hot that you’re sure you will have burn marks within but as blistering as he is, the heat you’re in demands more. 

He lets out a chest-deep groan and you shudder involuntarily—your omega proud to pull such pleasure from him. 

Your hips jerk forward for friction, your voice chanting his name. He pulls and pushes back in just as quickly, sending waves of pleasure all the way down to your toes. You can’t keep the sounds that spill out of you caged, all you can do is wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into his skin as he begins a reckless, animalistic pace. 

His hips pummel into your own as he leaves scorching kisses all over your chest; he is far passed taking this slow, first time or not. Reverting to such bestial ways does that to one’s brain. You copulate like rabbits—or more like canines, biting and scratching to find purchase in new pleasure, wave after wave, thrust after thrust. 

The size of him is all you can take. He reaches so far into you, filling you to the brim—a perfect fit. He growls your name and you lament, spine arching against the mattress beneath you. The angle forces him against that spot that makes stars seem dim and you’re begging him that it’s right there,  _ right there.  _

The swell of his knot is a wonderful thing and it begins to make his thrusts a shorter trip until he’s all but jutting into you wantonly like a bad habit. His lips find your ear, pecking at the soft skin of your lobe and under it. 

“Cum for me,” he orders with such fierceness that a few more thrusts and you’re undone, unraveling like a loose thread that’s been pulled. Colors explode behind your eyelids and you’re clinging to him so desperately. It feels like you will rip apart at the seams. You have never experienced such a rippling orgasm and it leaves your toes curling so tight that your leg cramps up. 

A guttural moan escapes Ciel and you feel warmth flood your walls in short bursts as you come down from your high. He's still riding through his orgasm into you, hips stuttering slowly to a stop that leaves you feeling sensitive and lost in an afterglow. Not a single drop of his essence escapes as his knot lies thick and tight within you. His hands, that had been holding your legs at a compromising angle, allow them to fall back but when he sees the wince in your expression and feels the stiffness in your leg, he’s quick to soothe the tense muscles there with intelligent fingers. 

He hushes you when tears fill your eyes and you cover your face in shame as realization dawns, turmoil evident. 

“What have I done?” you sob, voice catching unevenly in your throat as you feel the guilty warmth of him residing within  _ you _ . 

Not Elizabeth.

“[Name],” he whispers, pulling your only guard away. You shake your head in refusal but he cups your face, leaning down on his elbows for balance. His taught stomach smooths over yours. 

“Look at me.” You do and it pains you to see his eye so soft and full of something you dare not even think of. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“You’re  _ engaged _ ,” you whimper, horrified. “God, you're engaged and I let this happen.”

“You cannot take responsibility for this,” he states strongly, the pads of his thumbs wiping under your raw eyes. “It was going to happen come hell or high water.”

“I could have pushed you away!” You choke on another sob, closing your eyes and refusing reason. “I could have—”

“You couldn’t,” he cuts in. “I wouldn’t have let you, not with how many years it’s been since I’ve seen your face.” Your eyes open wide and he lays his forehead against your own. “How could I possibly resist the one woman I’ve always desired?”

“Liar,” you whisper, voice finally at its limit from your cries of pleasure and pain. “You can’t.”

“Can’t I?” He rumbles, hands sliding down your sides sensually as his eye lowers, ever so curious. You flush with embarrassment as he takes in every aspect of you, nothing is hidden now. “The heart is a fickle thing and so incredibly selfish.”

“When?” You struggle to get a good breath in as he ghosts his fingers over your breast, tracing their curvature. “When could you have—”

“I realized when I was on my deathbed and you were the first to come to mind,” he confesses, now tracing the underside of your chest before traveling lower towards your navel. You shamelessly arch into his touch and his lips quirk up in amusement before lowering in solemnity. He leans down. 

“I couldn’t let things grow after that. There are things you aren’t aware of, things that could steal you away from me.” 

You exhale a quivering, lungful of air as he kisses your collarbone, trailing to your jaw and then hovering over your lips. “Ciel,” you murmur hoarsely. 

“When the accident with your father occurred I thought I’d be free of you, that you would never forgive me and there would be no use pursuing this desire for you.” His sigh and the ache behind it makes your eyes water all over again. The blue of his iris is full of such sorrow and it’s one you are too familiar with. 

“But you came back,” he whispers, heartfelt and emotional for the first time in a decade. 

“Ciel…” He shushes you softly, kissing your tears away. Your arms wrap around him, refusing to let him go now that you finally have him here in your embrace. 

“I’ll leave you be if that’s what you truly wish,” he swears against your hairline. “Either way, you’ll get hurt if you stay with me, my dearest.” The pet name sets your heart aflame. 

“I’ve wanted to be by your side since we were little,” you admit, speaking through your tears. “I fought Lizzy just to  _ pretend _ to be your wife and it killed me the day I found out I couldn’t even do that anymore.” 

He encases you, his robust scent comforting as his hands rub your back. You try to find your natural rhythm of breathing. 

“I  _ want _ to be yours. With all of my being.”

“You can’t take it back,” he warns you, tilting your head back to make you look him in the eye. “I mean it. If you say that, I’ll claim you through the rest of this heat even if it takes all night.” 

You shudder, just now coming to terms that your natural tendencies are far from over. He’s still fit snugly inside you. 

“Ciel,” you breathe, cupping his face, “I’m yours.”

The hand rubbing your spine shoots to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair to pull you to his lips. Your mouths clash and you wrap your legs around his naked waist, gasping with a kindling want. 

A knock on the door has you freezing in complete and utter horror. Icey remorse courses through your veins as your brain works overtime to think of some excuse—any excuse for this happy but grave accident. You come up with nothing. 

Ciel only chuckles, releasing you from his hold. “It’s only Sebastian,” he murmurs, pecking your nose. 

“How could you possibly know that?” you whisper, eyes wide with worry. 

“I’ll only be a moment,” he says, disregarding your question by kissing your lips chastely, short and sweet. The way his lips part from yours tells the story of his hidden love and your thirst for every detail, especially the ending. 

His knot had abated during your emotional love confession so it doesn’t hurt as he leaves you. The gratifying tug of him against your walls has you biting your lips to keep quiet. When he’s completely out, you feel all the liquid warmth rush to seep out. 

You sigh, waiting to feel the earl slide out of the bed to get the door. When he doesn’t move, you lift your head from your pillow to find him staring between your legs. You can only imagine he’s enjoying the view of his essence flowing out of you; a white river of sin that pools in the sheets.

“Ciel,” you mumble in warning, heat working its way back into your insides. If he keeps looking at you like that you’ll be begging him to take you again in no time. “Hurry.”

Locking eyes with you, he swallows and nods, standing from the bed. You force yourself not to look at his hallowed body because you know if you do it’ll rush the remaining of your heat back to the surface. In time, you’d get to see every piece of him. You can be patient. 

Covering your eyes with your arm, you listen to the hushed voices of the earl and his butler. You pick up the words “distraction” and “success” and feel your brow creased in confusion. 

When you hear the door click shut, you chance a look at your newly beloved and feel your heart flutter at his slender beauty as he stalks towards you, pride and possessiveness very loud in his scent. When you find his handsome face he’s smirking, exuding the pride of a king.

Your heat makes itself known once more. 

“Let’s continue this in my bath,” he offers, arms sliding under you. You gasp as he draws you back to his chest, finally noticing how strong he’d become after all these years of separation. “I’ll not let you catch cold as I claim you.”

Your omega preens with delight, but you squash it back down to respond neutrally. “Mm, that and I reek of bath oils,” you mutter, ghosting your lips over his own scent gland in his neck. Soon it will be marked with your bite and yours with his. You feel him shudder as he carries you to his room and although you worry of being caught, he assures you you’re safe for the time being. 

“You’ll smell nothing but of me by the end of the night,” he rumbles into your ear, sparking your already growing arousal. “That, I promise you.”


End file.
